The most tormented country of all
by Cibiripilli
Summary: The destruction brought from the darkspawn forces an Avvar shaman to side with lowlanders. Will a moody apostate, one ex-Templar and an angry dalish be able to end the blight? Dedicated to MiiYuKira.
1. Prologue

A/N: Many thanks to the wonderful MiiYuKira for making me want to write again. She is also an awesome beta and English is not my first language so if what you read makes sense is her doing! Reviews are apprecciated as well as feared. 

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><p><strong>The most tormented country of all<strong>

**Prologue**

Of these houses  
>nothing<br>but fragments of memory

Of all who  
>would talk with me not<br>one remains

But in my heart  
>no one's cross is missing<br>My heart is  
>the most tormented country of all<p>

(Giuseppe Ungaretti - San Martino del Carso)

_Life in the Frostback Mountains is not a easy one._

_No home is safe and permanent, there is no birth-right, even your people's love is something that you have to earn. Nothing lasts forever nor is anything guaranteed. Not adapting to the constant change will just bring an inevitable death. It is a harsh lesson to learn- but that's how life is in this cold and hostile land; always moving, always fighting and always having to prove yourself. _

_You must stay vigilant, for when the worst happens you have to be ready._

The harsh climate of the mountain did not allow the survival of a wide variety of species, but for those who knew to look beneath the surface of that that frozen earth knew that it hid underground streams and the caves were teeming with vitality. Plants and animals that had adapted to that life and always fought to preserve it. There are no bright colors or loud sounds, no showy flowers or birds singing melodiously; but this doesn't makes the scenery dull, for every single sound and flash of color vibrates with a unique force and energy, that will melt the heart of the privileged few who are allowed a part of it.

The stillness of the forest that morning was unnatural and she could immediately sense that there was something terribly wrong with the earth. Cursing under her breath she got up from her bedroll wishing she could make sure everyone was ok, but already knowing she couldn't go back empty-handed. Being the Shaman's apprentice wasn't an easy task, she had a great power and it was her tribe's responsibility to make certain that she was able to carry that burden alone.

For this reason they were particularly hard on her, even with the numerous and difficult tasks her mentor assigned her she wasn't exempted from other daily chores; she learned from an early age to fend for herself and as the years went by more and more obligations fell on her shoulder to prepare her for the day when she would lead the tribe at the chieftain side. It had been a few days before when she had been sent to collect medicinal herbs to replenish their supply and had yet to return due to their scarce availability on the barren mountain. She knew that the village was well defended but there was still this wrong feeling in the pit of her stomach that would not go away.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

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><p><em>Calm down Eira, deep breath in, deep breath out, focus on the soil, let your energy connect with the earth...<em>

It felt like something dark and filthy was crawling in her own blood, she could taste it in her mouth and it made her sick. She soon found herself collapsed on the ground, trembling and chocking on her own breath, wishing for the whispers to cease.

Before she knew it she was running as fast as she could, her wolf shape swiftly moving on the snow, any rational thought forgotten by the fire with the rest of her camping gear.

A column of black smoke rose silently into the darkening sky, but the thick tangles of branches above her obscured the view- so the first thing that hit her was the stench. She had readied herself for the worst, battles always had causalties and some of her brethren could already be at Korth's side; having fallen in battle. Yet, she couldn't hear the clash of weapons, nor the Elders shouting their orders- and the air didn't smell of fresh blood but of death and corpses having been left to rot for days and somehow, despite the evidence, she knew that it just wasn't possible.

Something was messing with her senses; she had to reach the others so they could tell her what was wrong. The trees around her were beginning to thin out, so she slowed a little to go back to her human shape, unsheathing her curved blade with her right hand while gripping her staff in the left. She then took a long breath from her mouth, willing herself against throwing up just yet- rushing in with her best fighting stance.  
>There was flesh and gore everywhere, pieces of corpses which were no longer recognizable were scattered all over what used to be her home. A scream died in her throat while she stared at the tortured bodies of the children, the upper half of her old nanny, killed while trying to protect their innocent lives, the lifeless eyes and faces disfigured by grief who stared her accusingly from a row of heads stuck on pikes and spears, the limp figure of a former hunter hanging down from a pole gently swayed by the wind.<p>

She saw all of these though the tears that silently streaked her cheeks, and it hit her.

Among the chaos, were the darkspawn. She had read about them and the Shaman had predicted their return, but no one could foresee the destruction that they brought with them. They were scary creatures, but upon seeing them, she only felt anger and hate. She wished that they were still alive for her to kill.

She could no longer deny the truth. There were no survivors. Her villagers were all brutally killed by those monsters and there was nothing she could do to change that, not even following them dying by the hand of their killers for these had no doubt moved on already. She was late. Every form of life she knew had been slaughtered. Men and animals, women and children alike.

It was then that she found the voice to scream.

She began to search frantically among the bodies, trying not to look at their faces because she couldn't bear anymore to see the fear and pain of her loved ones in their last living moment, nor she could stand the evil sneers of those rotten horrors that had managed to mock her even while dead. Her research became increasingly desperate and yet she still couldn't found any woman. It was impossible that they had escaped to safety, not when every single man, elder and child lay dead around her.

She wandered the borders of the massacre, looking for any clue, and saw that something or someone had been dragged to the depths of the forest. She followed the trails of broken branches and marks in the dirt and began running when she saw something appear behind a bush just ahead.

Her legs gave out and soon she was sobbing and kneeling in front of Cara's dead body, a dear friend and sometimes even a maternal figure for her that grew up without one. She had been clearly beaten, wounded and dragged away against her will but they didn't kill her. A single carving knife was stuck in her heart, firmly held by both of her hands. Cara had ended her own life. For the sake of her mental health Eire couldn't even think about the intent of those vile creatures and in the recesses of her mind, her thoughts foggy with pain- she couldn't help but hope that the others had sought, and found, the same end.  
>She didn't know when, but her legs had started working again and she was running in the forest. Not able to think coherently nor knowing where she was going she continued to see those horrible images before her eyes. She couldn't believe it. All her life, she had been taught to cope alone, not to rely on others because they wouldn't always be there for her.<p>

She hadn't been vigilant enough and now that the worst had happened- she wasn't ready.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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><p>Alistair's luck wasn't on his side that day.<p>

Duncan had been away for an entire week, leaving him alone to handle the two new recruits; one a balding knight with frightened eyes who complained from morning to evening, and the other, a lecherous thief who made all those who've had to deal with _him _complain from dawn to dusk. He also had to endure the constant teasing of the other Senior Wardens _and _the bad mood of the revered mother- who treated him like a servant, sending him to do menial chores.

He was actually on one of her foolish errands- arguing with a boar-faced mage- when the arrival of an armed elf (who could have been scary if he hadn't looked like he had one foot in the grave) told him that his Commander had returned. Alistair was so relieved that he ignored the elf's rude comments and happily dragged them both back to where Duncan was, if only to be scolded for _mistreating _the poor Circle mage.

On top of all that, he was given the dubious honor of being sent into the Wilds with the three most promising recruits in the history. It wasn't definitely his best day.

He couldn't say when, but at some point the elf, (Duncan had addressed him as Theron) had taken the lead and was guiding them through the swampy wilds; the territories that had been made even less friendly by the ravages of the Blight.

Alistair had to admit that this Theron was doing a great job so far, and the former had always felt that he was not suitable for being in command- so it was with great relief that he let himself be led into the Wastelands. It was a horribly swampy place where Alistair's poor sense of direction left a lot to be desired, and it was all he could do to focus on efficiently killing darkspawn and every enemy that stood before them.

Daveth and Jory weren't doing badly- all things considered, those blighted beings were tough to kill and even the bravest soldiers were terrified by their appearance; but the young Dalish was on a whole different level, he rushed headlong into the fighting with a courage and rage worthy of a berserker.

Theron seemed to have an enormous reserve of spirit; the elf's ferocity with the twin blades against the darkspawn were sometimes all that kept the recruits from being completely overwhelmed. Alistair couldn't help but wonder a little. Nobody loved darkspawn, it seemed that _he _was particularly motivated, and such a deep hatred always had some very personal reasons. Theron never offered an explanation, and they did not question the surly elf.

They had long collected the three vials of blood and looted anything that could be useful or sold, but the old ruins where they would find the Wardens cache were nowhere to be seen.

They seemed to be going in Circles, and Theron felt increasingly weak, his were limbs heavy and stiff, and despite the low temperatures his blood seemed to boil in his veins. He grudgingly signaled for a rest; and to escape the worried glances the annoying blonde human continued to send in his direction, he wandered off- climbing a nearby hill. "Scouting" was all he muttered before disappearing among the dark silhouettes of dead trees, leaving no room for a reply.

Dark spots began to dot his vision and soon, he was leaning on a log, breathing heavily and willing for his heart to slow down. He was trying hard to catch his breath, and he allowed his mind to drift back to the events that brought him there, and the grief in his heart grew stronger as he thought of his lost Clan, people whom he would never see again, Tamlen...

A snapping sound brought him back to reality and with bow in hand, Theron hastily prepared himself to shoot. He had a snarl on his face as he came out from his hiding point to find himself aiming the sharp arrow-point straight at Daveth's head. The blighted _shemlan _was grinning, his arms raised to shoulder height and palms facing him with a relaxed stance.

"Hey- hey, and here I thought I was being nice, stepping on that twig in order not to startle you. You know, a handsome elf like yourself should never be left alone, and it is quite dangerous out there- I thought you could do with some company."

The urge to release the arrow was overwhelming, but Theron just glared, hoping for the words inside his head to get across; emerald eyes coldly meeting Daveth's brown ones.

The _shemlen _thief shrugged and nonchalantly made his way so he was standing by his side, staring in the distance. Theron himself was surprised at that serious expression, though he had to admit that despite the jokes and lecherous comments Daveth did seem sharper than Alistair and braver than Jory (which wasn't much of a task), but _he _also had light and fast feet, and was good enough with his daggers and bow. These were skills that even Theron could respect.

He allowed himself to relax again, eyes seeing past the distant treeline, and saw that the trees were growing in size and numbers- something that his human companion seemed to notice too. "Better go back to the others. We are reaching the mountain's foot, there's nothing for us on this side."

With a resigned sigh, Theron cast a last glance at the scenery, the land was suffering and the trees were contaminated- making him wonder how long would it take before the taint reached the Brecilian Forest too. A glimpse of a shimmer through the bushes caught his attention, his trained eyes barely discerning a crouched figure, whose form was not like that of the darkspawn.

"Daveth wait!"

It was the first time he spoke the human's name and that got _his _full attention, and the human immediately stopped in his tracks, wondering what could have alerted his usually silent comrade. He couldn't sense any danger near and the Junior Warden with the flippy hair would surely warn them if he sensed the presence of darkspawn in the area.

"There is something over there, call the others."

Without waiting for an answer he rushed hastily back to the body, which was covered with a coarse thick cloth, but he could distinguish the rise and falls that indicated that it was still breathing.

He approached with caution, pulling out a hunting knife, and bent down to topple the body with his free arm. He received a moan of protest and before he could understand what was happening, something hard slammed powerfully against him, sending him flying on the ground a few meters away- knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Cursing and swearing at the attacker, Theron stood up ready to fight, only to hear the sound of quickly approaching footsteps.

Alistair got to the scene to see Theron screaming angrily against a little bundle of clothes kneeling on the muddy soil; it actually took him some time to realize it was actually a person concealed with a heavy cloak that had been torn in several places, covered with slime, blood and all sorts of filth. Hearing his arrival, the stranger raised his head at him, and the dirty cloths fell back, revealing a face.

He saw wide eyes, blue as the sky on a clear winter day, framed by a pale and delicate face looked at him, for a few moment he simply stared, stunned, but then he noted the exhaustion on her innocent visage, and two vertical lines trailed down from her eyes, so white on her dirt-stained cheeks.

Whatever had happened to her had to be a disgrace, he remembered thinking to himself. Alistair now felt an overwhelming urge to protect the stranger.

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><p>AN: And here we are! Alistair is the knight in shining armor and Eira the damsel in distress! How do you think he'll react when he find out she's a mage? XD Many thanks as always to lovely MiiYuKira, I shall post again soon if my home will not be submerged by the snow..


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